


Never knew I had it all

by TheEagleGirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Joffrey is a little shit, Sansa deserves the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7548187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEagleGirl/pseuds/TheEagleGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa feels bewitched. She’s never noticed Jon before last month. He was Robb’s silent shadow, outshined by Robb himself, or his friends Theon and Dacey. But Joffrey had shone to Sansa as well, her golden-haired boyfriend that she couldn’t wait to bring home to her parents. She’d pictured them having children together almost immediately after they got together, hadn’t she? Jon, however, is quiet, and as a teenager, Sansa had always overlooked him. </p><p>That had been a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never knew I had it all

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to finally do a proper modern au for these two characters on Sansa's developing relationship with Jon. 
> 
> If anyone's got any prompts, let me know in the comments

It was in her third semester of college that Sansa Stark called Jon Snow for the first time.

Jon had always been around, her big brother’s best friend. It was at Robb’s funeral that he had given her his number, with the instructions to call him if she ever needed to talk. Sansa had sniffed away her tears, leaned into her mother’s side and thanked him a bit stiffly. It wasn’t that she wanted to be rude, exactly. But she was tired, and all cried out and Jon just watched her with his sad eyes before going to Arya and Bran, who were both dry eyed and angry.

Sansa knew by then that she would be going to go to UCLA, and that Jon worked in California for most of the year, leaving to spend his summers at home in Vancouver with his mom. Jon hadn’t known that yet. He had offered his number to be nice, not because he’d actually expected her to call. And Sansa convinced herself when she left home that she would be strong and independent, and if any of the Stark children could make it in the big, dark world, she was determined it would be her.

So she hadn’t called. Until tonight.

The phone rings once, twice. It’s up to five rings and Sansa’s heart is sinking with dread. She’s about to hang up and cry some more and _then_ figure out her plan, but it’s on the fifth ring that she hears him pick up.

“Hello?” he says, voice rough with sleep.

“Jon?” She heaves out a sigh of relief and almost starts crying. “Jon, it’s Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

She can hear his voice become more alert. “Sansa? Are you alright? Has something happened? Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—I’m not fine. I need…” What does she need? Suddenly, a panic rises in Sansa’s throat and she looks around. It’s dark, and the only light she sees is the one down the road, where Margaery’s big, fancy house party is still in full swing.

“I need help,” she decides on. “I’m really drunk and I need a ride. And my boyfriend just hit me.” The last part comes out in a rush, and Sansa’s not sure if it’s more panic she feels at the admittance or relief at finally telling someone. She hadn’t meant to.

Jon is so quiet that Sansa thinks she’s long the connection. She’s about to pull the phone away from her ear to check when he says, “Where are you? I’ll be right over.”

She’s actually a bit away from the city, and Jon tells her he can be by her in forty minutes. He tells her to go back into the house until he can find her, but Sansa refuses. Finally, as he gets into his car he ends the conversation with a firm “Stay safe. I’ll be there soon.”

Sansa can feel herself sobering up as she waits. The alcohol is draining from her system and the world starts tilting less. Suddenly, the woods she’s hiding in seem much scarier, and Sansa wishes that she’d agreed with Jon and gone back, if not all the way back to the party then at least closer to the house. But that means getting closer to Joffrey, who, last Sansa saw, was looking for her.

So she waits. She ruins her nice dress and shoes when she sits on the ground, hidden by the trees. The night feels unreal, in a way. She feels numb, she feels cold, but in a detached way, like none of this is actually happening to her. Sansa’s eyes are starting to drift closed when her phone rings. It’s nearly dead, but she picks up.

“Sansa,” Jon begins before she can say anything. “I’m driving up the road. Come on out of the woods so I can see you.”

Scrambling, Sansa wobbles to her feet and out onto the road. The headlights nearly blind her, but then the car stops, and Jon is there, Jon is getting out of his car, Jon is walking up to her…

She throws her arms around him. “Jon, thank god you’re here! Thank you so much.” She realizes that she’s hiccupping and shaking, and Jon just holds her close.

“You’re alright?” he asks, and she nods.

“Take me away from here, please.”

He disentangles himself from her and steers her by the elbow to his car. It’s a nice car, not new, but it’s warmer than the cold October night air and Jon immediately drapes his sweater around her when he sits her down. He’s also got some water, which she drinks to stop hiccupping.

“How long have you been waiting outside?” Jon asks as he sits down. His hair is a mess, he’s wearing his wire rimmed glasses and flannel pajama pants with a black t-shirt. Sansa realizes that he hasn’t changed, that he came for her straight out of bed.

“An—“ her teeth chatter. “An hour.”

Jon clenches his teeth. It does something funny to the muscles in his jaw. “There was a Dunkin Donuts a few miles away. Let’s get you something hot to drink.”

That’s what makes Sansa start to cry. Joffrey had…he’s hit her before, once or twice (four times), and he’s always apologized. But he’s never stuck around to get her a hot drink or see if she’s okay. He’s never picked her up from anywhere, not even the airport, which was only a few minutes away.

“He was awful,” she says. “Why didn’t I see it?”

Jon’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel.

Sansa repeats herself, voice smaller, “Why didn’t I see it?”

 

* * *

 

Sansa wakes up the next morning in Jon’s bed, surrounded by Jon’s sheets and his bedcovers. His room is tidy, his clothes folded neatly on his chair and his desk is organized. Joffrey had made a mess of every room he came into, even hers.

She wanders into the kitchen in a pair of Jon’s sweats and an old t-shirt of his. He’s making coffee. His dog, Ghost, comes to Sansa and nuzzles her knee, like he knows she needs comfort. She scratches behind his ear.

“Called Arya,” he mumbles, handing Sansa a cup of coffee. “You left her a drunk message last night. She was a bit freaked out.”

Sansa holds the cup with her cold hands. It warms her, slowly. “You didn’t…tell, right?”

Jon shakes his head. “No. It’s not my place. But you should tell her, Sansa. And you should break up with that fucker, if you haven’t already. I’ve never seen you that terrified. You shouldn’t be with someone who makes you scared.”

Sansa nods. “If he hasn’t gotten the message already, I’ll make sure my roommate drops all his stuff by his dorm.”

“Jeyne Poole? Is that your roommate?”

Sansa nods. Jon unplugs her phone and hands it over. “She’s been calling.”

“Oh,” she says. Suddenly, she doesn’t want her phone anymore. “I’ll call back later.”

Jon’s hair is messy. It’s longer than she’s ever seen it, too. He runs a hand through it. “Well…” he begins. “I’m off to work, but you can stay here if you need, for now. If you, you know, don’t feel safe at your dorm. I’ll leave my extra key so you can lock up when you’re done.”

Sansa nods, blinking back the sudden rush of tears. She feels very small. “Jon, I—“ She swallows. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t answered your phone.”

He reaches out a hand to wipe away the tear that’s escaped. She is startled, but doesn’t move away. “I would have come, no matter what, Sansa. You can always call, you know.”

The guilt creeps up, and Sansa nods.

He continues, “I do want to kill this Joffrey prick though. Let me know if he gives you more trouble. And if you leave during the day, I’ll call you tonight to see how you’re doing. Okay?”

She takes the hand he’s got against her face and squeezes, “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Sansa takes her coffee and pulls up a chair near Jon. It’s his lunch break and she hasn’t got any classes today, so she’s treating him to coffee. He looks on with amusement as she bites the lemon cake.

“I remember that you always loved lemon cakes. My mom made you some when you came back home for Christmas. I left them with Arya. Did you get them?”

Sansa laughs, “Oh, yeah! They were amazing. I ate, like, half of the batch. Arya ate the other half before I got to them, though.”

“She’s coming by soon,” Jon says. Sansa nods. “She’s going to stay by me,” he says.

Sansa hadn’t known that. It hurts, a bit, for Arya to have asked Jon to stay with him and not her.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t know.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t like your roommate, apparently. I told her to tell you.”

Sansa shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Judging by Jon’s face, it hasn’t worked. “Well, she didn’t. It’s okay, though. My dorm is kind of small.”

“I know, she said that too.” Jon takes a drink. “That’s why I want to take you guys out to dinner sometime. She’s gonna be by me for three nights before her flight to Italy. And I’m showing her some schools while she’s here, so this way you guys get to spend some time together.”

Sansa is beaming already. “I’d love to go out to dinner with you guys. That sounds fun.” She licks some crumbs from her thumb. “Lately, my social life is limited to Jeyne and Netflix.”

Jon purses his lips and straightens his glasses. It’s a pretty sight. Sansa has to look away. “Sansa,” he begins. “Is he still bothering you?”

She shakes her head. Joffrey has ignored her since Jon came to their computer science class and threatened him two weeks ago. Jon brought his half-brother Aegon and his aunt Dany’s boyfriend Drogo, who stood beside him imposingly while Jon spoke, very softly, to Joffrey. Sansa hadn’t heard the words, but Joffrey’s barely looked at her since. After, Jon had invited her to go out with them all, and Dany, who waited in the car. She hadn’t had so much fun since Robb died. “No,” she says, and swirls her finger on the table. “More like all of my friends turned out to really be all of his friends. He told them that we broke up because I’m a bitchy, possessive girlfriend.”

Jon’s hand covers hers for a moment. She looks up sharply. “Well,” he says mildly, an eyebrow raised, “fuck ‘em. It’s their loss, Sansa.”

Her heart squeezes painfully when Jon smiles at her softly, and when he removes his hand from hers, she mourns the loss.

 

* * *

 

Arya is loud, wild, and loves to laugh. Her fencing competition in Italy is a big deal, Sansa knows. If she does well, she’ll be considered for the Canadian fencing team in next year’s Olympics. It’s a strange thought, Sansa being the sibling of an Olympian, but she’s happy all the same for her plucky little sister who is only truly quiet with a sword in her hand.

“I _begged_ mom and dad,” she tells Jon and Sansa when they pick her up from the airport. “They’re meeting me in Italy, but I totally got down on my knees and begged them to let me come to LA first. I missed you guys,” she says, punching Jon in the arm.

“You would have seen me at Christmas,” Sansa reminds her.

“What, in a month and a half? When we’re all at our worst? No thanks.”

Jon laughs. He knows what Christmas in the Stark house is like. It’s chaotic. But last year he wasn’t there, Sansa muses. He didn’t see how somber it was.

It’s going to be their second Christmas without Robb.

“They agreed, anyway,” Arya continues. “When I told them that I’d spend three hours every day in the gym training with Brienne Tarth while I’m here. I can’t wait to meet her. Syrio’s said so much about her.”

“I’ve met her,” Jon says. Sansa forgets, sometimes, that Jon was just as dedicated to fencing as Arya is now. He’d fenced all through high school and college, but gave up competitive fencing soon after. “She coached me for a while. You’ll love her. She’s already told me that she watched some of your videos.”

 

* * *

 

It’s not until later that Sansa remembers that Arya’s meeting one of her idols, when she turns up at Jon’s door. He answers it with an apologetic expression. Ghost yips and runs to Sansa, who rubs him behind the ears.

“Arya just called. Brienne’s offered to take her and her other student, Podrick, out for dinner, to get to know them better. It’s just us.”

Sansa’s not disappointed. In fact, she can feel her chest strum with excitement. Her hand tightens in Ghost’s fur before she lets go to straighten up.

“What are we going to do?” She asks. “We’ve got a reservation, right?”

Jon nods. “We can still go. Or we can order food. Your choice.”

Suddenly, ordering in sounds wonderful. They can watch Netflix, talk, eat cheap Chinese food. It sounds great, and Sansa is about to tell him that when he says, “Actually, I think we should go to the restaurant. I’m in the mood to eat out.”

 _That’s good, too_. Sansa thinks. She smiles at him from under her lashes. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

The reservation is under Jon’s name, and when they sit, Jon orders Sansa a glass of wine, even though her twenty-first birthday is in March.

Sansa feels bewitched. She’s never noticed Jon before last month. He was Robb’s silent shadow, outshined by Robb himself, or his friends Theon and Dacey. But Joffrey had shone to Sansa as well, her golden-haired boyfriend that she couldn’t wait to bring home to her parents. She’d pictured them having children together almost immediately after they got together, hadn’t she? Jon, however, is quiet, and as a teenager, Sansa had always overlooked him.

That had been a mistake. Jon was sweet, even when he wasn’t trying to be. He was gentle to her, and she loved the way he said her name, and stared at her with all his attention when she spoke. As they spoke, Sansa couldn’t help the way she leaned forward to catch every word, or caressing the line of his jaw, his strong shoulders, his chest, with her eyes.

It had been an uncomfortable revelation, when she realized that she liked him. But now, she took comfort in it. Joffrey hadn’t ruined her after all.

Before Jon had come, with Aegon and Drogo, Joffrey had come up to her in school, pinched her arm and twisted her skin when she said it was over, and said, “You’re mine, Sansa. I was here first. You will always be mine.” But she wasn’t. Sansa was her own, and she was pleased to see that Joffrey treating her horribly hadn’t taken away her desire to be around men. Or stop her from wanting Jon.

By the time dinner was over, Sansa couldn’t remember exactly what dinner had been. But she could remember how Jon’s eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, how his face softened when she had spoken about her classes. How his hand had felt when Sansa got out of her chair and he put it on her back to steady her. In a way, Sansa feels more off balance than she ever has in her life.

In a way, she feels more daring than she ever felt, when she reaches up and gives Jon a peck on the lips.

Jon’s hand stills against her waist, and he doesn’t move. Sansa pulls away, face burning. She doesn’t regret it. She refuses to let herself regret it.

“Sansa—“ he begins.

She takes his hand and pulls him behind her. They don’t talk until they’re in Jon’s car. His hands rest against the wheel, but they don’t move. He is staring at her with unreadable eyes.

“I thought,” Sansa starts, “that I ought to do that, at least once.”

Jon clears his throat, “Sansa. You don’t owe me anything.”

She shakes her head, “Don’t be stupid,” she says, but puts a hand on his arm to soften the words. “I owe you a lot. You did pick me up in the middle of the night from a crazy guy and all his friends. But I wouldn’t kiss you for that. I like you.”

He looks dumbstruck, and Sansa almost takes her hand away from his arm when he says, in a tiny voice, “I like you too.”

The world spins, and Sansa can feel herself grinning from ear to ear. “I knew it!” she says, laughing. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Jon turns suddenly, and his hands cradle her face. “May I?” he whispers, asking. No one has ever asked her before.

In answer, Sansa pulls him close and kisses him.

 

* * *

 

Arya’s snoring on the couch when they get back to Jon’s place, tangled around Ghost. Sansa takes off her heels and tiptoes across the wooden floor. Her sister looks calmer sleeping, more relaxed. Sansa has never realized the strain on Arya’s face after Robb’s death until she sees it gone, taken away for a while by a good night’s rest. She is suddenly seized with the urge to kiss her sister goodnight, like she used to do when they were children.

When she straightens, Jon is waiting for her.

His face is cast in shadow, the light of the kitchen on behind him. He’s leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pocket. Sansa’s never seen a sight so beautiful. Walking softly, she moves over to him and kisses him.

“Your room?” she asks, running a finger down his shoulder, to his heart. She feels it beating steadily. “We can stay here, but I think Arya might wake up from the noise,” she jokes.

Jon smiles down at her, and she’s never seen that much adoration on someone’s face directed at hers. “Come on, then,” he says, and presses his hand into hers.

She doesn’t tell him that it’s the first time she’s slept through the night with someone else. They don’t do much beyond some kissing and heavy petting (on Sansa’s part; Jon is determined to be a gentleman). Still, even when she had sex with Joffrey, she was never allowed to stay the night. With Jon, she tucks her head into his chest, sweaty and yearning, but somehow satisfied. He won’t kick her out of bed, she knows. Jon puts his arms around her shoulders and pulls her closer.

Sansa has never felt safer.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on tumblr! Come find me!
> 
> Please review!
> 
> I'm also not joking about the prompts. I'll write almost any pairing with Jon Snow, and I live and breathe for rare Jon pairings. Let me know if you guys have any cool ones!


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